


The Things We Deserve

by Not_You



Series: Morale [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Biting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dildos, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Face Slapping, Finger Sucking, Light Bondage, Masochism, Napping, Natasha Feels, Pegging, Penis Size, Sadism, Scratching, Slapping, gagging, hand signals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 13:39:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4748420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha is having a bad day.  Steve's enthusiastic, submissive masochism is helping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things We Deserve

Despite her best efforts, Natasha is as human as anyone else. More durable, perhaps, but squishy all the same. That was how Clint had put it once, and now Natasha giggles. It's not an entirely good sound, but she'll take the laughs she can get right now. Not even a bad mission, just a bad day. The kind of mood that makes her feel ridiculous, and she jumps at a knock on her door, even though she knows damn well that Steve is on her floor.

"Yes?"

"Can I come in?" Steve's voice is as sweet and concerned as always and enough to make a wave of guilt come up, because the Black Widow doesn't deserve compassion, least of all from someone as truly good as Steve. She tells him to come in before she can decide not to, because she is more than the Widow. Steve enters slowly, and shuts the door behind him with a soft smile. "Hey."

"Hey," Natasha says, and smiles back, feeling a little better.

Steve comes over and sits beside her on the edge of the bed. "What's up?"

“Nothing, really. Just being Russian, I guess. Maybe it's the weather.”

Steve chuckles and puts an arm around her. “I'll read any great literature your melancholy produces.”

“Thanks.” She leans on him for a long moment. “My morale is low, but so is my energy.”

“Shared naps can be very good for morale,” he says, and she laughs.

There are very, very few people Natasha trusts at her back, fewer still if she's asleep. Steve's warmth follows her into soothing dreams, and when she wakes up he's still asleep, a massive warmth behind and around her. She turns in his arms to study his ancient/young face, and feels a surge of terrible tenderness. This is the kind of thing that will destroy her one day, and she kisses Steve awake to distract herself. He makes a weird, muffled little grunt that reminds her of Bruce, and she smiles, kissing her way along Steve's jaw as he blinks and then yawns and then smiles back at her.

“Hey.”

“Energy is back at optimum levels, captain, but morale is still a little low.”

“Well,” he says, “we can't have that.” He blushes, suddenly shy. “Uh... how do you want to do it?”

Natasha chuckles, amused by how wide-eyed and golly-gosh Steve still is about having sex with a woman. “Well, we haven't gotten around to the strap-on yet...” Steve makes a little involuntary noise of humiliated arousal in his throat and Natasha can feel her mouth pulling into an evil smirk. “No time like the present.” 

She gets up and goes to her toy chest while Steve rolls onto his back to watch her. The perfect crease in his khakis is destroyed, and his undershirt has ridden up on his belly like a photographer put it there. “What size do you want?” she asks, and his flush deepens.

“I, uh...” he looks away and squirms a little.

“I'm going to take that as 'extra large, please, ma'am,' unless you say otherwise,” Natasha informs him, and picks up a favorite of hers.

“That'sfinebyme,” Steve squeaks, squirming some more.

Natasha chuckles, collecting lube, a condom for easy cleanup, and her best harness before returning to the bed. She lets Steve get a good look at the dildo before she sets it aside, and he bites his lip, looking back to her. Her bra is of course long gone, along with her pants, but now she pulls off her shirt and raises an eyebrow at Steve. “Care to join me?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he murmurs, and strips as efficiently as he can. The second he's naked Natasha pounces him back onto the mattress, kissing him and fondling the ludicrous, serum-enhanced breadth of his chest. He puts his hands on her hips as if he's not sure he's allowed, a stage that they have to get through every time. At least it's getting shorter and shorter, and now it only takes two kisses and a hard pinch to the nipple to get Steve grabbing her ass and grinding up against her. She really loves the slide of his intact foreskin, and she wishes that English was a better language for saying so. As it is, she just tells him that he feels good, which is true, if imprecise, and bites his neck so hard it makes him yelp. 

Natasha has a sadistic streak that she's sick of examining, and while Steve can get remarkably submissive with the guys, he's only really masochistic with her. So it's perfect, and he moans when she strokes his cheek with two fingers, their signal that she's going to start slapping him. “Yes,” he breathes, and then cries out when she hits him. “Oh, oh fuck, Natasha...” he writhes under her, moaning when she slaps the other cheek. She's not pulling them and a more normal human (like Clint, for instance) would need to recover between them and could probably only take about four, total, but Steve is Steve. This means that Natasha can grind a wet trail onto his belly as she slaps him again and again, turning his face from side to side with the force of it. She stops after a dozen and Steve's cheeks are red and his pupils are huge as he gazes up at her. 

Steve moans when she pushes the first two fingers of her left hand into his mouth, fucking along his tongue and pushing to the back to make him gag. She does that for a while, enjoying the alternating sounds and the tears that gather in the corner of Steve's eyes, but she pulls out at last to wipe her hand and then to stoke two fingers across his chest. True to form, Steve is happy to let her slap him in the tits and leave red hand-prints on his creamy skin that vanish in seconds. He cries out whenever she hits him, soft and open and helpless, mewling whenever a strike lands on one of his nipples.

“I keep meaning to really give you a beating,” Natasha says softly. “Bend you over and go at you with you with a flogger for a while, roll you onto your back and mark up your chest.”

“Fuck,” Steve whimpers, tiny and high-pitched, his forearm across his eyes.

“Yess,” Natasha purrs, and leans down to bite Steve's chest, sinking her nails into his sides and making him groan and shake, his cock twitching against her ass. He clutches at her and then moans and lets her pin his hands over his head. “Is it all right if I tie you up?”

“Yes,” Steve gasps, and, “I want to see you when you're fucking me.” He has to close his eyes and just breathe as Natasha uses her shirt to bind his hands to the headboard and digs up one of the triangular sex pillows Tony ordered shortly after all of this started to prop up Steve's head and shoulders. “Oh God...” Natasha kisses his open mouth, licking her way inside and Steve mumbles something that's probably another evocation of the divine.

“Are you ready?” she murmurs. Natasha can come from pegging when she gets the harness arranged right, and she aches to get started.

“Please,” Steve says, and watches as she buckles the harness on and gets the dildo aligned. She lubes it slowly, letting him get a good, long look. He shudders and moans and she has to kiss him again and stroke his hair for being such a good boy, for making her feel like she's not a monster for wanting to take him apart. She bites his neck and rubs lube over and over his hole before pushing two fingers in and making him moan and clench around them.

By the time Natasha is ready to give Steve her cock he's begging for it, his voice breaking as Natasha settles herself between his legs, gripping the long, thick cock and settling the head against Steve's hole. He squirms and gasps and then groans deep in his chest as she slowly, slowly pushes into him. She grip his hair with her other hand, feeling like she's keeping both of them grounded.

“That's right,” she croons, sinking deeper and deeper, “that's right, Cap. Take it all.”

“Yes ma'am,” he whimpers, and his eyes roll back in his head the last of the length goes in. “Ohfuck,” he whimpers, “oh _fuck_ that's deep, I can't, I— _aah_!”

Natasha moans, grinding as deep as she can possibly get, the dildo's base pressing her clit too hard at first. But then she finds the right rhythm for her own pleasure, perfect and selfish. “God, Steve,” she growls, working her hips in slow, hard circles, “using your hole is perfect.”

Steve just mewls and gasps, “Yes!” when Natasha strokes his cheek again. She slaps him and starts actually fucking him, short, deep thrusts that get faster and faster until she's moaning as fast as she can breathe and Steve is wailing, struggling to spread his legs even wider for her, drawing his knees up to give her better access. Natasha slaps him again and again, grinding on the base of her cock and groaning and Steve lets out a sound that's almost a squeal. He writhes and tosses his head, his skin gleaming with sweat, and the sound he makes when Natasha yanks on his hair is what makes her come at last, rutting and in and in and into him, every tiny movement making him quiver and whine.


End file.
